The Brave Parents
by hisgirlstm
Summary: Merida's legendary parents', Fergus and Elinor, deserve their own story. So, this story is about how Fergus and Elinor crossed paths, how they fell in love, and how they became who they are presently. Of course there is romance, adventure, history, and magic weaved into this famous couple's lives, bringing them to connection to the world we know in their children's lives. R
1. Chapter 1

"Elinor!" I heard my mother's voice call from down the hall, coming closer and closer to my bedroom door. I shoved myself against the wall even harder, pressing so hard that my feet were beginning to slide on the floor. I was trying to see if I could make myself smaller and disappear forever. The sounds of cries and screams filled the air outside of my window and I curled into a ball to stop the sounds. "Elinor! Let me inside this instant!" I could hear the tinge of worry from her screeches, attempting to have a strong tone with me, but overall, just as scared as I was. Our kingdom was under attack, and there was nothing that any of us women could do, except hope that my father and brothers would return…alive. "Elinor, please. It's mommy. Open the door for mommy." I lifted my eyes to see the hinge of my door being turned over and over, hastily, in the act of trying to burst into my room. I could see the urgency from the turns, fast and hard, as my mother's voice became louder, harsher, higher. After a moment of everything going distant from me, the clear sounds of war outside my window feeling like it was miles away and I had super hearing. My mother's cries were destroying something deep inside of me, so after pushing myself to go, I bolted toward the door and took the chair out from underneath it. My mother bounded into the room, fell to her knees, and gazed into my face. I could see the tears running down her beautiful face, the one that I had seen so strong and tough all my years, was now breaking down before me. I knew in my heart something was wrong.

"My dear Elinor, we need to leave! Your father built a cellar down below in case something like this ever happened…" Before leading me down the stone staircase, she looked at me, and I mean really looked at me, before kissing my forehead and tearing us both down the stairs. My fourteen year old sister was waiting at the bottom, her eyes wide with fear. I felt something twist my aching heart. Even my mighty sister was terrified! What could have possibly happened to all of us to lead us to this destruction of humankind?

Mother shoved Annella and I down into the damp cellar, shutting the trap door above us, engulfing all three of us into darkness. I heard the sizzle of fire starting, and soon to behold, the flames of a fire appeared on the stick my mother held. She sat it high; in a perfect ring that it would only fit in, and leaned against the cold stonewall, pressing her hand over her heart. This was the first time I noticed how hard she was breathing, the sound nearly hurting my ears. I felt something break inside of me. How could my mother really be like this? The Queen of our Kingdom?

My mother turned her head, finally noticing my mother and I, and she choked, tears returning to her angelic face. I had to turn away, searching for a place to sit without destroying my dress with dust. "I'm so sorry, my dears. I didn't know any of this would happen."

Annella, one of the wisest young girls I knew, spoke up. "Of course you didn't, mother. No one did. It is certainly not your fault that they decided to come attack us. They are power hungry."

"I know, Annella," my mother's voice sounded hurt, and maybe even disappointed. "That's how they have always been."

My ears perked, suddenly. I didn't even know why I said it, but it came out of my mouth before I thought about it. "Who are they?"

Annella glanced at our mother, secretly asking if she could tell me. My mother's eyes flicked over to me, a deep sigh coming beforehand. "The Murron and DunBroch Clan."

I remembered learning about them during my history lessons with mother. I looked between the two of them before settling on my mother. "Why?"

She knew exactly what I meant, even if my voice was starting to sound like I was going to cry. I was only a little girl after all. "They are attacking us because they want our power. They want new territory and for us to become part of them."

I stood on top of a crate that was sitting next to me, my voice rising in my lungs, sending power in each tone I brought. Annella stared at me with her mouth wide open, and nearly the same with my mother. "They are not allowed to take our clan! Not our home! If they want to fight, they will get one! Father, and Gillean, and Lyall. We. Will. Win!"

Annella swiveled her head to meet my mother's gaze, which, surprisingly enough, had a sort of pride hidden beneath the fear of everything happening around us. I heard her whisper, and later on in my life, I would never forget it. "That's my girl."

A loud pound came onto the hidden doorway above us and I heard Annella gasp. Mother threw the torch to the ground, taking away the fire, and went toward the stairs, listening at the wood. I heard a voice appear, deep and friendly, that spoke in our ancient language, and said: "We shall protect thee." My mother pushed opened the doorway to find one of our own men, Machar. His wavy dark blonde hair and fierce brown eyes met our scared faces, a wide smile on his face. "Hello, my dear Queen, I am here to lead you to the fortress that your husband had built years ago for protection."

My mother's expression returned to the one I had seen before, the stern and strong leader that both of my parents led our kingdom. I couldn't contain my smile; this was more familiar to me. "Oh, Machar, I know exactly where the fortress is."

"Then, why didn't you go there, ma'am?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice and I realized that he caught my mother at a standpoint.

She stood straight and met him right in the eye. "My husband would send someone to take us there, that's why."

Machar slipped out of the way, leaving out his arm, and properly stared, "After you, my lady." When my mother passed him, he gave a wink to my sister and she giggled. My hand went to my mouth in unison with their occurrence; my sister had an admirer, and _she liked it_. I kept my silent though, especially after I gave Machar a final glare as I went.

We proceeded out toward the stables, where our entire holds of horses were held, and my mother's face fell once she rounded the corner. She rounded on Machar, who met her expression with a blank one of his own. "There is only horse."

Her voice sounded like a threat and I had never seen my mother so furious, not even at our father. Still, his face was impassive. "They are needed during war."

My mother threw arms in the air, exasperated, and thought momentarily, before returning to him. "I will ride to the fortress, since you know a better way around the battlefield than I do. You protect my girls with your life, since they are part of your future kingdom." Her tone was so amazing that I nearly cried before her. She sounded like how I wanted my mother to be; brave and incredible. I wanted to be exactly like her, I had decided that right then. I wanted to be like my mother. My brave mother.

"As you wish," Machar said, bowing heavily as her presence.

My sister's voice broke it all though. "No, mother, I am not leaving without you."

"Oh Annella," my mother sounded annoyed, something I rarely heard toward us kids. "No, I need you safe."

"But, mother," I could hear the determination in my own sister's voice. "I am your daughter. You and I both know that I will be safe wherever you are."

Machar and my mother's eyes widened, but it was my mother's face that warmed and softened. "You really are too much like me, Annella." She looked at me, then back at Machar. "Only the two of us can ride a single horse. Get Elinor to the fortress. Or," I heard the scariest tone my mother had ever used in all my life. "It will be on your life."

I saw strength rise in Machar stature, his sized her, but he never acted better than her. Never. "Of course, my Queen."

My mother grabbed me, tightly, and gave me a bunch of kisses all over my face. "Be safe, Elinor. I will see you in our safe place, soon."

I had to fight back the tears. I knew how time of war worked. There could be a chance that I wouldn't see her again. But, somewhere, deep down inside of me, I knew I would. "I love you, mommy."

"I love you, too," my mother smiled before standing up, helping Annella, who waved to me, onto the horse, and finally hoisting herself up and both of them took off into the dust.

"Looks like we should be off," Machar spoke, silently, and calmly before tromping off toward the forest. I chased after him, trying my hardest to keep up with his pace.

"You like my sister, don't you?" I asked, nonchalantly, but rather quite curious.

He froze, his muscles tensing only for a moment, before he composed himself. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"You may find me an idiot because I'm a little girl, but I notice things that most of you don't think I see. So, please, don't be an idiot."

He grinned at me, one that I found helping me to do the same. "You are too much like your father." He rolled his eyes and did the motion with his neck as well. "If you must know, then, yes. I do have an interest in your sister."

I smiled wider, proud of myself for knowing something that others did not. "I knew it!"

Machar shook his head before the sounds of footsteps and rustling came close to us. In my fear, I rushed behind Machar, cowering and shaking. Machar unsheathed his sword, the sun glinting off the beautiful blade. Machar spoke, quietly, over his shoulder to me. "I will protect you, princess."

I silently thanked him, hoping that this wasn't it. I pressed my eyes closed. _Please, not yet._

People did appear from the trees, but I recognized our coat of arms on their shields and of course our colors shining against the harsh colors of the background. Machar walked toward them, leaving me off next to a tree, where I felt unfortunately lonely. They were speaking in hushed tones, so I didn't bother to go toward them. It must be a battle secret that I wasn't supposed to know, though, I wouldn't know what they were talking about anyway.

Machar turned back toward me, his face very white and shocked. I felt something ache inside of me. _Please, not my mother._ He came closer to me before resting his weary eyes on me, his face never once moving. Everything expressed pain in his face. My eyes shone with the question that everyone asked when you knew you were about to be told something. I gulped before he spoke. He stuttered his words, but I heard them clearly. "I'm so sorry, Elinor, but your father is dead."

Everything crashed, my body slowly turned upside and inside out as I stood there, my eyes widening with understanding as I stared at him. I could see worry searching my face, but I didn't care. "My… my father?" I asked, my voice not cooperating. I gaped at the ground, the realization that my father, my adoring father, was dead. I heard Machar say something before the world went tumbling beneath me, and everything went black.

* * *

I sat there, reading a book that I was trying my hardest to understand, but clearly it wasn't working. I was twelve years old, already knowing how to use a sword and bow, and yet, I couldn't read this book for the life of me. I threw it to the floor, angry, maybe because I wasn't in battle with my father. Mother of course said I was too young. I groaned, aloud.

"Fergus!" I heard my mother's scream my name. I ran down the stairs, skipping a few steps before sliding into the dining area that my mother, some guards, and the rest of my family were seated. My eyes flew between them all, but lastly fell on my mother. Her face was full of tension, but I could see something like shock within it. I gaped at her, titling my head, so she knew I was confused, and waiting. She inhaled, and then her voice appeared. "Fergus, The King of Clan Padruig is dead."


	2. Chapter 2

"Mother?" My footsteps fell quietly behind her and the sound of my voice came out in a choke.

Today, on the first day in years, I decided to follow my mother out to where she was going. She took her favorite horse, Edo, along with her every time and I found something aching inside of me as I trailed after her behind the trees. I knew what she was doing long before she had crashed to her knees at the faithful site she had gone to every week. This time, it was more special, since it was the anniversary, and she brought flowers with her.

There she was, the Queen of our Kingdom, on her knees, in front of my father's grave. She was beautiful, as always, even if it was a few years later, her dark curling black hair falling into her face and I could see the tears streaming from her brown eyes. Her gaze took its time to find my face and I could see the life pouring from her. She choked, sobs coming between words and breaths. I collapsed next to her, this time, so we were eye level. I knew I was twelve years old now, but I was only seven when my father died in battle, I was considered a beginning adult in my mother's views. So, why not start acting like one now?

"It's been five years, Elinor," my mother's voice sounded hoarse, a tone I hadn't become used to. I could feel her pain easing deep inside my chest. "Five long years that I have missed him, each and every day."

"Does Hugh know about these constant visits?" I asked, thinking of my new stepfather, the King of our clan, only because my mother needed an actual ruler. I hated how my mother felt so helpless in ruling on her own; I knew she could do it. But, apparently, she didn't believe in herself. I secretly swore to myself that I would be strong and be my own.

She gave me a look, even with the tears, that made me feel like I was an idiot. I narrowed my eyes, a little, back in her direction. "Of course he does, Elinor. He is the one that first came with me."

I shrugged. I wasn't very fond of my stepfather, only calling him by his first name, and barely speaking to him in private terms. He seemed so distant to my sister and I, the boys he cared for deeply, and it felt like to me that all he wanted was the power, instead of caring for my mother at all. No one would love her any more than my father did. That was a promise I held in my heart.

My mother leaned forward, calmly placing the bouquet of flowers on his grave. I could hear her hurting screams ringing in my ears. Even though it was five years ago, the cries I heard from my mother when she heard about my father's death would haunt me until the end of time. I titled my head back and focused on the sky, hoping to distract myself in some way. The dark clouds were starting to loom over us, causing the entire land to turn gray with mist and developing rain. I hesitated before thinking about everything again, keeping my thoughts stunned for a few moments longer.

"Do you think he will like these?" My mother's voice broke my meditation, my eyes snapping open as I found her staring at me, waiting patiently for an answer in return. I looked at the freshly cut daises and nodded. A small smile, the most genuine one I had seen since that battle, came onto her lips as her eyes refocused on his grave. I could see the name evenly carved in the stone, indicating that their fallen king had been properly buried. I put a hand on her arm, giving her that reassurance that someone was with her. The rain, cold and harsh, had begun to pour down on us, and when I started to turn to raise myself, I found that mother still on her knees, her hand reaching out toward the grass. The wind whipped my hair out of my face so I could see exactly what she was doing. My mother meant to whisper it quietly, but I heard it, all because the wind carried it over toward me. It was as clear as day; what I heard was, "I'm going to stay here with you. I know you never liked storms." My eyes widened, realizing what my mother was doing. She was planning on staying here all night, to easy my father's soul. With peering back at the castle over my shoulder, I sighed, rested on the ground once again, and held my mother's other hand, while the rain drenched us to the bone.

* * *

Seventeen was a big age for my clan. My father had been married, was with one child on the way, and named crown king by the age of eighteen, which meant that my age was the time of preparing me for those things. I had spent years of training and studying, learning the different cultures and clans in this land. I could tell the time by the sun in the sky and how the weather would be by astronomy. Only a couple of years did I learn how to sword fight, and my most recent training, in fact, is archery. I enjoyed it so much that I found myself sending arrows through the air as much as I could. Even to my mother's dismay.

Today, on the other hand, my father had decided that I practice riding the lands on my own, trying to beat my own instinct of territory. I protested, but after arguing with my father over nothing, I finally fell to his plans. I picked out my favorite horse, Ryder, and took off into the distance with him.

The cold wind hit my face with slick icicles, strong and rather distasting. But, on the other hand, I didn't care. All I wanted to do at the moment was ride as fast as I possibly could, escaping the enclosure of my home and the control of my parents. I felt powerful; in control of my own destiny, of my own choices. I wanted to live for myself, not what my parents wanted me to do.

The rain began to pound hard onto Ryder and myself, but I pushed him through. The wet rain soaked into my warm body, cooling myself a majority. I exhaled, in a hidden relief, as I rode on, allowing my mind to have a break for what felt like ages.

I came to an immediate stop when I saw two figures in the distance, both crouched on the ground, one being held by the other. I jumped down from Ryder, feeling my own clothes sticking to my skin as I maneuvered into the bushes, hiding myself from wandering eyes. I could tell that one was crying, the mother, and the other must have been her daughter. I could hear the mother moaning about how she missed him and that she wished he had never been taken from their lives. I, then, saw the grave sitting in front of them, a bunch of flowers resting on the ground. My eyes went back to the mother and I caught the sight of something sparkling off her head. When I peered closer, I saw that it was a crown. The air left my lungs as I stared at the family I knew immediately of, because what was happening now, was because of my family.

"Princess Elinor," I breathed out, frightening my own self as I did so. I knew that the girl there, standing strong for her mother, was the youngest child of their royalty.

Almost as if she heard me, Elinor swung her head, slowly, out toward the forest where I was hiding and poured her eyes onto my hiding place.


	3. Chapter 3

**** I'm so sorry about the long wait, everyone! I just finished high school and moved, so I was super busy and finally got around to writing the next chapter! I know it's rather short, but I hope you still enjoy it! Please R&R! ****

"Get up," my own voice sounded louder than I expected, the rain sliding into my mouth as I spoke. I tried my hardest not to choke, but hold myself higher than anyone I knew.

He rose from behind the bushes, his thick brown hair short, but long enough to go near his ear, and sticking to his head. His baby blue eyes peered at me with something I never expected; sympathy. I continued to hold my head high, pointing my chin a tiny bit higher than my throat. I would intimidate this prince more than I originally planned. But when he came tall over me, so tall that I had to bend my head back to meet his face, I sucked in some air. I could see the muscles moving from beneath his clothes and I felt my eyes attracted to his chest. Then, I shook my head. Becoming the age of twelve brought all new sorts of feelings that I didn't know existed.

"Princess Elinor," his thick accent sounded genuine and sincere, but I shoved past all of that.

I hated his father for killing mine. So, over all, we were enemies before we even met.

"Prince Fergus," I hissed, my voice slithering toward him like a curse. "Why are you here?"

"I was riding by," Fergus, honestly, seemed to care for some reason. The way he met me straight in the eyes and had that sad expression written all over his face, made me writhe in pain. But I ignored it, again. "I saw two people sitting in the rain. I felt like I needed to make sure they were all right."

I glared into his eyes. "You can see we are just fine."

"I'm not so sure about that," his eyes slid past me and onto my mother. I turned around and found my mother's face close to the grave, her face pinched in tears and pain, and my heart ached. I should be with her, not fraternizing with the enemy.

"Shut your mouth," I snapped, and his face looked stunned. I didn't care about being proper anymore, only getting him away from us. "It's your damn father's fault that this happening, so I don't need to see your face to remind me, either."

I turned to leave, but I felt his hand wrap tightly on my wrist. I swiveled toward him to see him looking at me with regret and guilt in his eyes, and even on his face. I felt my heart twist again. "Elinor, I didn't know any of this was going to happen."

I jerked my hand out of his grasp. "Neither did I."

I stalked away from him, my rage fuming, but at one point, in the middle of walking back to my mother, I stopped in my tracks and glanced over my shoulder. I saw that Fergus was still watching me, and to my surprise, he gave me a small reassuring smile. Instead of returning the gesture, I ran back to my mother, afraid to glance back.

* * *

I returned home with both the horse and myself wet. My thoughts were swimming with Princess Elinor, her strong and brave demeanor, and the love she had toward her family. I felt grateful for running into her, even if it was under horrible circumstances.

A maid came up to me to say that my father was waiting to speak with me. I walked into his chamber, forcing myself to stand straight, since that's what he liked, and waited for him to speak. He eyed me for a moment, but didn't bother to ask me about the wet clothes.

"Son," his voice was rough, so rough that sometimes it made me cringe. I'm sure it came from the years of battle. "We have found something that may make amends with the Padruig Clan."

I only watched him, silently hoping that the answer would be different than what he had eventually told me.

"Fergus, there will be a treaty of marriage. You are to marry their eldest child, Annella."


End file.
